


twenty questions

by orphan_account



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Phanfiction, there's literally zero plot, this is just sin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-05
Updated: 2015-12-05
Packaged: 2018-05-05 00:22:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5353859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Dan and Phil play a slightly modified version of 20 Questions in Las Vegas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	twenty questions

**September 23, 2012**

_The moonlight was shining through the windows, casting a silvery glow over the hotel room. We had just gotten back from the bar and Phil, well, he was bloody pissed — more drunk than a sailor back from sea. The light illuminated his body, making him more beautiful than ever. It was hard to keep my hands off him before, but this, this was just a new level of torture. God must have truly crafted Phil himself from the finest flesh and bone to be found. Alas, he was as straight as a ruler._

 

* * *

 

 

"Danny, do you want to play a game?” Phil slurred as he scooted closer to me. The hotel room wasn't very big, so we were already squished together on the small space in front of the bed. With him even closer, he was practically sitting in my lap.

“Phil, go to bed. You’re bloody hammered," I mumbled.

For once, I wasn’t the drunk one. (I know, how very surprising.)

Phil had thought that it would be a good idea to go to Las Vegas for my 21st birthday, now that I was legal there and all, and we had gone to a high profile casino and bar. He had gotten in easily, but my situation was different. For me, even though I was completely legal, access to the alcoholic portions of the casino were denied because I looked too young. As a result, Phil was the one drinking his ass off while I sat thee in a corner and glared, instead of both of us, how it was supposed to be.

"Danny, please, I'm not sleepy or as drunk as you think I am. Can we play twenty questions?" he asked

I was confused for a minute, then I realized what he was talking about. Twenty questions was that one middle school party game where they tried to guess who or what the other one was thinking of in twenty questions or less. If they didn't guess correctly or ran out of questions, they lost.

"Jesus Christ, Phil. You're not exactly convincing me of the fact that you're not completely shit-faced when you're suggesting that we play games that were popular in middle school, y'know?" I retaliated, shaking my head and sighing softly.

"I promise I'm not very drunk, Danny. I swear. And this seems like the perfect opportunity to bond with some fun games!"

"Goddamnit," I groaned. "Don't make me regret this in the morning."

Phil grinned. "Trust me, Danny, this is going to be really fun."

"There's one catch though: neither of us really know how to play," I pointed out to him.

"I do! You ask the other person a question, and if they don't answer, then they take a shot. Or they could do a dare, instead."

"Even with my limited knowledge of the game, I’m pretty sure that’s not how twenty questions works," I said dryly.

Phil waved his hand dismissively. "Silly little things like that don't really matter. Come on, let's play!"

I stood up. "Where are the shots, then?"

"Grab them from the minibar," he said as he stretched out on the floor. His shirt rode up a little bit, exposing part of his pale waist and what looked like a well-trimmed trail of hair leading down.

 _Damnit, Daniel_ , I chided myself. _Stop thinking about him like that. He's straight as a bloody ruler._

I crawled to the minibar — being too lazy to get off the floor meant that actual walking was out of the question — grabbed the extremely overpriced bottle of vodka, and sat back down in front of him.

"Phil, maybe you shouldn’t take shots . . ." I trailed off. "You’re already semi shit-faced. More alcohol won't help anything."

"I don't care, Daniel. I'm going to go first. Who was the last girl who you kissed?"

I blushed. "Some girl I picked up from a bar. I didn't get her name." That, technically, _was_ true. She was the last _girl_ I kissed.

Something vaguely like jealously flashed across Phil's face. I was probably imagining it, the dim lighting of the room didn't make it very easy to read facial expressions.

"It’s your turn, Danny boy," he said.

I sighed. "Phil, you’re going to be waking up with one hell of a hangover tomorrow morning. Maybe you should just go to bed."

Phil stuck his tongue out. “Just ask a question. I'll worry about my hangover tomorrow.”

"Okay, fine. Why do you call me Danny boy when you’re drunk?"

He shrugged. "I don’t know."

"Phil, you have to give me an answer, not just an ‘I don’t know'."

"It’s cute how you blush when I say it, I guess," he said, shrugging.

I blushed as I heard this and almost waited for him to say 'No homo' after that, but he didn't.

"Okay. Your turn." I said.

"Well, I was thinking—"

"Oh, no! Don’t go around thinking like that. It could be dangerous!" I interrupted him, my words laced with a heavy amount of sarcasm.

Phil grinned devilishly. "I have an idea, Danny boy. I dare you to let me take shots off you."

My mind went blank. _Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck_. He was straight and very not interested in me. This was just a friendly thing, something that bros do on the weekends.

"Phil, you’re drunk out of your mind. Let’s get you to bed," I said, red blotches appearing on my cheeks.

"No, Danny! Please, just once? Trust me, it'll be really fun."

"You’re drunk, Phil. Go to bed. We'll play tomorrow, if you still want to."

"Dannnnnnny," he whined. "Please?"

"Hell no," I said, shaking my head.

“Please, Danny?" He made huge puppy-dog eyes and looked me straight in the eye. There was no way I could resist.

I sighed. "Fine."

I stripped off my shirt and threw it to the other side of the room while Phil grabbed the vodka bottle from where we had placed it. I laid down on the ground, face up, as he drizzled the liquid all over my body. I could tell he had done this before from the way he expertly bent down ands tarted licking long, precise strips up and down my chest. He licked father down, near the waistline of my pants.

I blushed as I realized what exactly he was doing to me. The licking was going straight into my pants, figuratively. A bulge had begun to form down there against my will.

As I looked up, I saw Phil’s eyes had begun to dilate, his normally blue eyes were almost completely black. I vaguely remembered from somewhere, probably shitty middle school sex-ed, that dilated pupils were a sign of arousal.

He licked and sucked slightly on a spot on my neck and I let out a filthy moan in response. It was clear that he noticed that and my erection, judging my the arousal in his eyes and his own. He looked away for a minute, then whispered a breathy, "Can I?"

"Oh, fuck, yes." I let out a whimper. "Please, Phil. Fuck me."

Before I finished saying my sentence, he slipped off his own shirt and pants, leaving him in nothing but boxers and unbuckled and pulled down my pants in one quick motion.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" I asked, biting my lip.

He looked hungrily at me. " _Yes_."

I pulled down my own boxers and stood there, naked, waiting for Phil to make the next move.

Phil stared, awestruck, at my cock, and slowly brought his face closer and closed his lips on it.

I moaned in pleasure as he began licking stripes up and down, using his teeth and humming as he went along. "Have you done this before?" I asked.

"Yeah," he said, detaching himself.

"You're bloody amazing at it," I breathily let out as he began to suck once again. "If you keep this up, I'm going to cum every-fucking-where."

Phil pulled his mouth off me and looked me dead in the eye. "Then let me fuck you before that happens."

I gulped. "Let's get on the bed, then."

He nodded, then pulled off the only item of clothing that was separating us: his boxer shorts. Then, abruptly, he grabbed me and pinned me to the nearest hotel bed.

"You're so hot like this," he mumbled in my ear. "Under me, right where you belong."

I let out a filthy moan. "Oh, yes."

"Do you have lube?"

"I brought some, first pouch in my suitcase," I said. Phil got up and rummaged through my suitcase and found the small bottle he was looking for.

"Well, someone was prepared." He chuckled softly. He opened the bottle, squirted a bit onto his hands and smirked while I laughed impatiently.

"Please, Phil. Fuck me," I moaned. He grabbed me and spread my legs wide, inserting a finger into my ass and wiggling it around.

"Okay?" he asked.

"Okay," I replied breathily.

Phil inserted another finger, scissoring the two around and making sure to brush my prostate every time.

"Fuck me," I groaned softly.

"Happy to oblige," he mumbled as he squeezed another glob of lube onto his hand a began rubbing it onto his cock. Phil lined himself up with my entrance and slowly thrust in, pausing to allow me to take it in. Once I urged him to go on, he pulled himself out and thrusted faster in and out of me.

The room was quiet except for the sound of bodies in motion, skin slapping against skin, and the occasional moan.

Phil gave a last final moan, and rode out his high all while still thrusting in me. That pushed me over the edge. I came all over my stomach and the bedsheets, the white fluid getting sticky after a minute or two.

"Come on, let’s clean up," I mumbled.

“I don't know. . ." he trailed off. "Come on," Phil said, motioning to the other bed in the room, the one not completely covered in sweat and cum.

I climbed in with him and he wrapped his arm around me. I felt safe and content with him next to me, his arms around me, his body pressed up against mine. A few minutes later, Phil’s breathing seemed to even out and I knew that he had fallen asleep. I already knew that tomorrow was going to be _horrible_ , I had hell to pay for what I had done tonight. I took advantage of him — he was _drunk_ , for god's sake — and probably took his gay-sex virginity.

The next morning, just as I predicted, was one of the more awkward ones that I've experienced. I was upset, but not very surprised, to see that Phil wasn’t in bed with me. Sometime in the night, he probably came to his senses and got out of this mess.

Since he didn’t appear to be anywhere in the hotel room, I got out of bed, still naked, and picked up my boxers that were tossed onto the floor in a flood of hormones last night. I rummaged through my belongings and picked something randomly from my suitcase and hopped into the shower. The warm water soothed my raw skin and washed off everything from last night.

When I got out of the shower, fully dressed, I was surprised to see Phil sitting quietly on his own bed, waiting for me. I would have expected him to pack all his things and get out of this hotel room and me, the psychopath who (kind of) forced him into sex.

I stood awkwardly in the corner until Phil stood up and sighed. "We have to talk."

"Oh. . . I’m sorry. It was all my fault, I shouldn’t have done that. I bet you hated it. . ." I trailed off.

"Look, I really enjoyed that last night, but I’m not gay —"

I snorted. "You’re saying this after you just confessed that you enjoyed having sex with your male best friend while you also happen to identify as male? The last time I checked, that meant that you were gay."

Phil looked mildly annoyed. "As I was saying before you so rudely interrupted me, I’m not gay, but bisexual. That thing that we did last night finally convinced me."

I sighed in relief. "Thank god. For a minute, I though you were having a crisis over your sexuality. So what are we now? Friends? Fuck buddies? Boyfriends?"

"I don't know. I don't think we should really label our relationship as anything right now, we're too early in."

"What relationship?"

"Ah, screw it," Phil muttered. "Daniel James Howell, would you do me the honor of being my boyfriend?" he asked.

"Goddamnit, Phil. This isn't a marriage proposal, but yes, I guess I'll accept," I said, smiling.

"So can I do this?" he asked as he leaned in and pressed his lips to mine.

"Absolutely," I said against his lips, kissing back and looping my hands around his waist.

He pulled away and said quietly, "I’m so glad I got drunk last night."


End file.
